


Teach Me to Hope

by Skald_of_Askr



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e03 The Green Mill Murder, Fluff and Angst, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Missing Scene, Post-Canon, References to Period-Typical Homophobia, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22048093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skald_of_Askr/pseuds/Skald_of_Askr
Summary: A missing scene (and some extra ones) from the end of The Green Mill Murder, where Jack tells Bobby he's free to go.
Relationships: Charles Freeman/Bobby Sullivan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	Teach Me to Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little all over the place, sorry. I wrote half of it before I posted the first part of my the Jack & Jane series (which, yes, I think about all the time and WILL write more of) and I wrote the second half earlier today. I just... have a lot of emotions about MFMM's portrayal of historic gays facing homophobia in the law. I think they did a pretty good job, I just needed to see the scene where Bobby and Charles realize they're going to be okay. Admittedly, this got out of hand, but I couldn't find a good ending. I hope I did alright in the end.

“Alright, Mr. Sullivan, you’re free to go,” the Inspector unlocked the cell, swinging the door open and gesturing for him to stand up. Bobby simply stared at him.

“Mr. Sullivan?”

“Wh - what do you mean, I’m free to go?”

“You’ve been cleared in the murder of Leonard Stevens. His murderer confessed.”

Bobby continued to stare at him, “But - but what about the photos?”

“What photos?” the Inspector asked. Could he really mean? He couldn’t. Could he?

“The - the ones in the folder I took from Leonard Stevens apartment,” he said. He had to make sure. Even if he was being let go, he needed to know where they were.

“What, these photos?” the Inspector pulled the folder from a pocket inside his jacket, opening it up to reveal four pictures of Miss Fisher striking funny poses and nothing else.

“But the - what about the negatives?”

“Oh, I’m no photography expert,” the Inspector said, “I think you’ll find Miss Fisher to be somewhat more knowledgeable on that subject.”

“Miss Fisher?” Bobby asked, finally stepping out of the cell. When Miss Fisher had first gotten her… cabbies? to summon him to her house, he had been wary of her. That only increased as she interrogated him, followed by her following him into Leonard Stevens’ apartment. But then she had sat with him after his arrest, listening to him as if he were worth listening to. She’d cleared his - but more importantly, Charlie’s name. And now it seemed, they owed her even more.

As they approached the main area of the police station, Bobby heard raised voices.

“I - I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do! I have to wait for the Inspector!”

“What’s to know? I’m here to be arrested! You can’t have never arrested anyone before!”

“No, I mean - yes, I have arrested people before! I just - Inspector!” the poor constable that had hauled himself through the window when Bobby had been caught looked incredibly flustered, latching onto the Inspector’s presence like a lifeline.

“Ah, Mr. Freeman,” the Inspector said, just as Bobby came into sight of the room.

“Bobby!” Charlie turned to him as soon as he clapped eyes on him, “Bobby are you alright? Are you hurt? Where are they taking you? Where are you taking him?”

“Calm yourself, Mr. Freeman,” the Inspector told him, “We’re not taking him anywhere. Mr. Sullivan is free to go. And what is this I hear about you turning yourself in? For what crime?”

“For - I - for - what?”

“You’ve been cleared of suspicion in the murder of Leonard Stevens. I can think of no other outstanding charges, certainly none with any evidence to sustain them, and so both you and Mr. Sullivan are free to go. Do you have any further questions?” 

“I - no. Thank you, Inspector.”

“Of course,” the Inspector nodded, “Collins, get started on the paperwork for the Stevens case.”

“Um, sir, tonight is - ”

“Oh, of course, yes, it’s the ball, isn’t it. Take an early night off, then, Collins. I’ll get started on the paperwork, myself. It’ll give me an excuse not to have to go.”

Bobby followed Charlie out of the station, unable to believe their luck and so  _ so _ happy to see the man he loved again.

“I don’t understand,” Charlie said as soon as they were in his car, “And I don’t like this. What about the photos? What happened to them?”

“I already asked,” Bobby told him, “The good inspector said to ask Miss Fisher.”

Charlie closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, “Miss Fisher. Of course. The source of much good fortune, it seems.”

“Charlie? Are - are  _ you  _ okay?” Bobby asked, now getting a look at him. He seemed exhausted, although that might just be from being on the run from the police for days on end.

“Vic,” Charlie began, before getting choked up, pressing his hands to his eyes. Bobby laid a cautious hand on his arm. They weren’t in the most private setting, but he figured that had to be safe enough.

“Take your time,” Bobby told him.

“Vic’s alive,” Charlie choked out, “He’s been alive this whole time, hiding from us.”

“What? Vic? Your brother?”

Charlie nodded, “Miss Fisher flew me out to see him after she found out. His face got real scarred up, and apparently he was afraid to see us. He - he told me I was braver than he’d ever been,” he let out a sob, “because I refused to hide out with him.”

“You told him?” Bobby surmised. Charlie nodded, “I don’t think he was really all that surprised. He and mother both took it pretty well.”

“Your mother knows too?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you through all this,” he offered. Charlie stared at him like he’d grown two heads, “You?  _ I _ was the one who was on the run while you got locked up in jail for trying to protect us,” he took Bobby’s hands in his own, “You’ve been in  _ jail _ , facing the prospect that they’d finally caught us, for days. And I wasn’t there for you.”

“Just drive us home,” Bobby told him, squeezing his hands, “I can’t stand to restrain myself from kissing you for much longer.”

Charlie smiled at him and extracted his hands to hold the wheel instead, “Neither can I.”

“But tomorrow, we should call on Miss Fisher to express our gratitude,” Bobby suggested.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

~ ~ ~

They drove to Bobby’s apartment, not wanting to have to face Charlie’s mother quite yet. Bobby lived in a small place in a part of town with a reputation for partying. The people in these streets were far more open-minded than most of Melbourne, not that it was by any means safe for them to display their affection here. Just… saf _ er _ .

Better yet was the fact that the sorts of people who frequented these areas had any number of shocking lifestyles or shameful secrets, and not all of them were crimes. There was a protection in crowds and in vagueness that appealed to Bobby. After all, if someone discovered his address and eyebrows were raised, no one had to be any wiser about  _ which _ brand of unacceptable partier Bobby was. 

They headed up the stairs into the brick building, Charlie’s hand hovering near his elbow. Charlie's desire to be the hero his mother wanted had been one of the traits that had initially drawn Bobby to him. Life had never been kind to him, so he loved Charlie's chivalrous nature.

Once inside the privacy - the safety - of his apartment, they dropped the heavy restraints they needed in public. Bobby had just enough sense to lock the door behind them before taking hold of Charlie's lapels and pulling him into a kiss, walking backward towards his bedroom. Charlie wrapped one arm around his waist, the other reaching up, his hand cupping Bobby’s jaw. 

They reached the bedroom, locking that door too, and then Bobby pulled Charlie down over him as he laid back. 

Charlie pulled away, breathing heavily, “I'm so glad you're alright. When Miss Fisher told me you'd been arrested, I was terrified of what they might do to you.”

Bobby reached up, bringing Charlie's hands to his face and kissing his palms, “I was terrified, too. For myself, yes, but mostly for you. I was sure I would never get to see you again. Feel your touch, your lips, again. But now you're here and we're safe and everything is alright.”

“I love you, Bobby,” Charlie breathed, hands caressing his face as he held it like a precious treasure, “I love you so much. I don't know what I would have done if anything had happened to you.”

“Charlie,” Bobby said his name almost reverently, “You’re my everything. My dearest friend, my confidant, my dashing prince… but most of all, my love.”

He arched up into Charlie as the other man pressed kisses along his neck and jaw, “Feeling your hands on me is all I need to be okay. You heal me with your touch alone, my own personal salvation.”

“You must be the most beautiful creature on this good earth,” Charlie told him, “In both body and soul. I would hang a thousand times over to keep you safe.”

“But I would follow you,” Bobby replied, “Like I always have.”

Charlie captured his lips with his own once more, before breaking away to say, “How did I get so lucky as to win your heart?”

“By being the perfect man,” Bobby smiled at him, “How else?”

“I'm not perfect, darling.”

“Please. You think I would settle for anything less than perfection? Not very likely,” Bobby snorted.

“I guess I should know better than to question your standards.”

“Damn right. You know how picky I am.”

Charlie couldn’t help laughing, the anxiety and stress of the past few days dissipating as the relief and joy finally set in. Bobby was safe. He was safe. Leonard was gone for good, and Vic, miraculously, wasn’t. It really was all of his dreams come true at once. A laugh was too simple to encompass all of what he was feeling, but as he had nothing better, he wrapped the love of his life in a tight embrace, laughing out his happiness. 

~ ~ ~

“We’re here to see Miss Phryne Fisher,” Charlie announced when the butler opened the door. He nodded, stepping back to invite them inside.

“If you’ll just wait here, I will inform her you have arrived,” he said, holding out his hand to take their coats. Charlie glanced at his partner and noticed Bobby looking more fidgety than he expected.

“Hey, it’s alright. Miss Fisher is our friend.”

“Your friend, perhaps,” Bobby said, “As much as I am grateful for what I believe she has done for us, I do not know her that well, and I feel at a disadvantage. She knows our secret, after all. That gives her power over us.”

“She’s not the type, Bobby,” he reassured. Bobby shrugged uncomfortably, “I believe you, but I also have difficulties trusting people not to try and manipulate me through the people I love, after everything that’s happened.”

“I know what you mean,” Charlie nodded, placing a hand on Bobby’s shoulder.

“Charlie - ”

“Our secret is safe with Miss Fisher, Bobby.”

“As are you,” a much higher pitched voice cut in. Bobby jumped, moving to put some distance between himself and Charlie, but Charlie kept his hand where it was.

“Miss Fisher,” he nodded, “Good morning.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Miss Fisher replied brightly, “Nothing makes a morning better than knowing justice has been served. Although, in this case, I rather think there was more justice in the crime committed than in the law’s response. Still, what’s done is done.”

“About that - ” Charlie started, but Miss Fisher wasn’t finished, “Please, join me for a drink in the sitting room. We can figure out the rest of our business from there.”

“Of course,” he nodded, and Bobby followed.

Once seated on one of Miss Fisher’s extravagant couches, he broached the subject again.

“You said, Miss Fisher, that you appreciate justice being served.”

“I do indeed,” she smiled, “Hence my new profession.”

Charlie glanced at Bobby, “I think you’d tell the rest better. After all, the inspector spoke to you, not me.”

Bobby swallowed down his hesitation and nodded, saying, “Yesterday, Inspector Robinson released me from jail. Were you aware of that, Miss Fisher?”

“Yes,” she inclined her head, “He did mention it to me.”

“He said I had been cleared in the suspicion of Leonard Stevens’ death. But that wasn’t the only reason I was being held. I inquired after the photographs, and he said I ought to talk to you. I do not know you well, Miss Fisher, but Charlie gives your character a ringing endorsement. Please, Miss Fisher, I beg of you, give me the negatives.”

Miss Fisher looked at him, and he could not entirely discern her expression.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mr. Sullivan.”

Ice shot through Bobby’s veins, his deepest fears coming true. They’d traded one blackmailer for another. She wanted something in return for them, and whatever she asked, he’d give. Anything he could do, he would, if it meant protecting himself, or more importantly, Charlie.

“I can - ” he began, but Miss Fisher waved him off, “I can’t give you negatives that no longer exist.”

“What?” the emotional rollercoaster was too much. Bobby felt as if his world was spinning. 

“It seems I must have burned them.”

“Burned them?” Bobby asked, dumbfounded, and even Charlie looked as if he hadn’t been expecting that answer.

"Such a tragic accident, really. Must have tripped over a snag in the rug, then whoosh! There they go, flying out of my hands. Now you understand, we ladies must dress impeccably, and by the time I was done checking over my clothes for tears or dirt, I'm afraid they were positively incinerated. Just a pile of ash," she gave them both a conspiratorial grin. 

Bobby wondered if this was anything like what shellshock felt like. 

"And - and the Inspector won't…?" Charlie asked, or rather, tried to. 

"Well, seeing as how he snagged the rug," Miss Fisher replied with a shrug. 

Bobby choked on his tea, unable to believe his ears. A police inspector had all but told this enigmatic rich woman to destroy the evidence condemning his and Charlie's relationship? 

"It seems Melbourne is fortunate, both in its police and in its lady detectives," Charlie said more coherently than Bobby was feeling, but with the same air of shock and disbelief. 

"Now, how are you both feeling? This must have been quite the trial, and the news about Vic on top of everything…"

"It's been a lot," Charlie nodded, staring into his cup, "I'm not sure what would've happened if you hadn't been there."

"Well, then, let's hope I always am, when I'm needed. But on that note, is there anything else I can do for you? A better home, private of course? Jobs? Whiskey? Do you have a doctor you can trust?"

Bobby was still processing the first part of her inquiry, but the last was easy. He snorted, "How could we? I still barely trust you, after everything, no matter what Charlie says - sorry. No, we simply have to lie, like always."

"Well," Miss Fisher said again, "I've got the number of a doctor I highly recommend. She probably won't love me handing it out, her being rather busy and all, but I'd trust her with my life, and she would understand your plight better than most."

"I - I'm sure it's hard for women doctors," Charlie began, "But I don't think it's quite the same thing."

Bobby nodded, but Miss Fisher simply smiled in the mysterious way of hers and said, "Being a woman isn't the part I expect you to relate to. She's no stranger to having… secrets, although hers are slightly less illegal. Why any of this is illegal, though… frankly it's lucky for the law I became a lady detective, really. If I didn't have my own reasons for doing what I'm doing, I might well have determined myself to be a lady politician. Or even just a lady who threatens politicians with a gun until they write more sensible laws!"

The visit wrapped up shortly after this little speech, and Bobby and Charlie left Wardlow with a bottle of whiskey, a tin of biscuits, and an invitation to dine there a week from Sunday to discuss any other aid she could give. Bobby wasn't a fan of charity, but Miss Fisher had insisted that her money was "pointless, if she couldn't lavish it on good friends who deserved every penny of it," and even he had to admit that his dingy flat - however much security it gave him - could be vastly improved upon. 

"Well, I'm not sure that could have gone any better," Charlie breathed a sigh of relief, "Hopefully you are starting to understand why I trust her?"

"She had got to be the oddest woman I've ever met," Bobby marveled, "But I mean that in the very best way possible."

"Are you ready for the hard one?"

"Harder than asking a woman I'd met a grand total of three times for the evidence that incriminates me and my lover? Who could be harder to talk to than that?"

"My mother," Charlie said, and Bobby fell silent. 

"Oh."

"You don't have to come with me," Charlie was quick to reassure him, but Bobby shook his head, "No. I should be there for you. I want to be there for you."

Charlie briefly squeezed his hand, well out of sight of the windows. 

"I love you," he whispered. 

"I love you, too."

~ ~ ~

"Charlie? Is that you?"

Charlie took a deep breath before calling out, "Hello, Mother. I - I brought someone with me. If that's alright."

"You brought," his mother began in confusion, before stepping into the room, "Oh. Is this…?"

"Mother, I'd like you to meet Bobby Sullivan. Formally, that is. Bobby, this is my mother."

Bobby hesitantly stuck out a hand and said, "How do you do, Mrs. Freeman."

Just as hesitantly, Mrs. Freeman accepted his handshake and replied, "Well, thank you."

After a moment's awkward silence, Mrs. Freeman said, "I heard you had been arrested?"

"Bobby's been cleared of all charges," Charlie interjected, much to Bobby's relief, "as have I."

"Oh, I see," Mrs. Freeman nodded, "That's good. That's very good."

"Mother, I'm sorry I threatened you," Charlie suddenly said in a rush, "Everything was happening at once, everything was going wrong, and I was so scared and then I found out you were  _ lying _ to me… I'm so sorry."

Mrs. Freeman's hands were shaking as she laid them on either side of her son's head, "I know, darling, and I'm sorry, too. For everything."

Charlie had tears in his eyes, and Bobby laid a supportive hand on his arm. Charlie put one arm around his mother and the other around Bobby, letting out a sob he'd been holding in. Mrs. Freeman was crying, too, and Bobby couldn't help but feel out of place. 

When the pair had calmed down, Mrs. Freeman eyed Bobby from head to toe and said, "Well, I'm going to have to get to know you, I suppose, but Lord you're so thin. Let's get to know each other over lunch, shall we?"

And then suddenly it was Bobby who was crying. He barely knew Mrs. Freeman, and she was hardly the enthusiastic pillar of support that Miss Fisher was, but the mere offer of getting to know him from the parent of his lover was more than he had ever expected he would get. He had cut off his own family years ago, and he always assumed that the only family he and whomever he fell in love with would ever get to have would be each other. But here was his lover's mother asking him to stay for lunch, and Charlie's long lost brother had been  _ proud _ of his dedication to Bobby, not disgusted, or furious, or anything of the sort. 

For once, he could see a future beyond the misery and fear of a life lived in secret. He could almost see Sunday dinners at Wardlow, with the oddest yet nicest collection of outcasts in Australia, if not the world. He could see peaceful nights with Charlie, in a comfortable home, secure in the knowledge that, for some reason, one lady detective and one police inspector had their backs. He could even begin to see family holidays, an awkward but well meaning affair between one tired old woman who just wanted the best for her sons, the lost son finally brought home, the one who'd would've died to protect the secret of his love, and the lover who nearly died trying to protect him right back. 

Bobby had spent most of his life in fear. Fear that he was broken. Fear that he'd be found out. Fear that the person he loved would suffer for that love. Fear that he'd never be accepted by any but those in the same boat as him. 

But here, standing in the Freeman house with the love of his life, and a promise from a new (and affluent) friend to give them the life they dreamed of, Bobby began to hope in a way he had never been brave enough to hope before. Perhaps the future was brighter than he'd ever dared dream. 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is based on one of my favorite quotes from Pride & Prejudice (it just carries so much emotion, I think - and tbh, as much as I prefer the others, I think the 1940s version really nails this bit with Lawrence Olivier's acting) when Darcy says "It taught me to hope, as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before"
> 
> I haven't posted anything in half a year, I know, but I have been writing. Less than usual, since it was a dreadful semester, but hopefully I will start posting a bit more in the new year. Unforeseen disasters aside, I'll be graduating in May, and then hopefully I'll have even more time to write (although I need to start working more on my original fiction if I want to pay off my student loans rip). Also, be on the lookout for some perhaps unexpected fandoms (from me, at least) - I got some very mysterious inspiration recently, but I notoriously give up on long-term projects if I share too much about them, so that's all I'll say until I'm ready to post.
> 
> Anyways, I hope whoever out there who might be interested in this enjoys it, and it's good to be back!


End file.
